Last night, when the moonlight slipped into my attic room as an oblong of light, I sensed she’d come to commiserate.

It was October. She travelled with a small valise of darkness, and the first few stars returning to the northern sky,

And my room, it seemed, had missed her. She pretended an interest in the bookcase while other objects

Stirred, as in a rock pool, with unexpected life: strings of beads in their green bowl gleamed, the paper-crowded desk;

The books, too, appeared inclined to open and confess. Being sure the moon harboured some intention,

I waited; watched for an age her cool gaze shift first toward a flower sketch pinned on the far wall

Then glide down to recline along the pinewood floor, before I’d had enough. Moon,


LM Thapar School of Management

Dera Bassi Campus,
Off Derabassi - Barwala road
District Mohali- 140507
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